


Neglected Neural Space

by shishooter



Series: More on DR0 [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero
Genre: Aromantic spectrum, M/M, Trans Character, neurological headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:04:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2562410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shishooter/pseuds/shishooter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yasuke Matsuda has grown used to the disconnect of his mind and body, the space between what he feels and what he does. <br/>Izuru Kamukura is working through his damaged brain, struggling to understand the fragments of sensation and emotion that break through his indifferent shield.<br/>They both sense the attraction they share, and puzzle through it physically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neglected Neural Space

**Author's Note:**

> i am so bad at writing summaries sry

Matsuda is almost not surprised at all to see the boy again, sitting on a lab bench, staring at him though a curtain of dark hair.

“What are you doing here?” Matsuda retains his apathetic expression, fuming internally. “Why haven’t you cut your damn manga hair yet?”

“I would have thought you’d be able to tell.” Kamukura says, voice flat. “I’m here to give you information.”

Matsuda narrows his eyes slightly. “On what?”

“Whatever you’d like information on. My brain, perhaps? I’m sure you could publish a few articles on this, and anger those managing the Hope Cultivation Project.”

“Ah, yes. Pissing people off. That’s my favorite activity, you know. I’m guessing it’s yours too, as you keep showing up in the middle of the freaking night.” Matsuda scowls. “But as long as the murder machine himself is here, I might as well gather information.”

He stretches, then grabs a notebook and assumes his casual seating position, slung across as many surfaces as possible.

“Murder machine?” Kamukura considers this for a long moment, “That’s- accurate, I suppose.”

“Not hurtful?” Matsuda blinks a few times, an idea forming. Knowing the type and depth of emotional responses the other boy will give might come in handy.

“Hurtful? No, I’m not hurt by that. If I was, that would imply that what could be hurt is something that can be hurt, and I have no sense of self to be offended.” Kamukura states, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, sure. Confusing, but sure. Want coffee?” Matsuda says suddenly, standing up. “Someone brought in a coffee maker and I hate coffee. There’s tea and hot cocoa too though.”

Kamukura blinks. “I- sure. Coffee would be nice.”

“I bet you don’t know if you like coffee or not.” Matsuda yawns, waiting for the coffee maker to start up. “Are you capable of liking things?”

“Yes. Things that are logical to like, or necessary for my continued existence.” he pauses. “But it seems likely that some of my tastes from before have stayed with me. I seem to display a preference for sweet things.”

Matsuda tries not to laugh, and succeeds. “That is so stupid. What kind of murder machine likes _candy_?”

“I don’t know, not an adequate one. My previous life has tainted mine in many ways, the body still belongs to the desires and personality of the former occupant.”

Matsuda sighs, handing him a cup of coffee. “It was you. You were the previous occupant.”

“I’m aware.” Kamukura stares at the coffee for a long moment. “Thank you.”

“Welcome. What else is left over from you, pre brain surgeries?” Matsuda makes tea for himself, stifling another yawn.

Kamukura considers this. “Opinions. I find myself criticizing mundane things on occasion, before realizing I have no attachment to my surroundings. Feelings towards crowds- they unsettle me. This body- I don’t think I liked it much, it still feels wrong. Difficult to correct.”

“Oh? Gender stuff? I guess it doesn’t matter to you, though. Why would you care what your body looks like?” Matsuda half-smiles. “It’s just there for a task, right?”

Kamukura wrinkles his nose. “It matters.”

“Why?” Matsuda pushes, then after a long moment of silence, realizes the other either cannot or will not answer. “Fine. How’s your head been healing?”

“Better than before. The pain has subsided substantially, and the wound is healing well.” He takes a small sip of coffee, hesitating considerably. “Coffee does not taste good.”

Matsuda nods. “Absolutely not. Anything else been going on since you burnt up your limbic system?”

“Burnt up? Well, it was not without some difficulties, but my actions and thoughts are more stable now. I expected the results I obtained.”

Matsuda takes the coffee cup, and cautiously tries a sip to confirm that Kamukura has indeed recognized the terrible nature of coffee. “What’s changed?”

Kamukura pushes hair out of his face. “I seem to have developed mental symptoms similar to that of Klüver–Bucy syndrome. This is to be expected, though, and I can manage the signs well.”

“Klüver–Bucy.” Matsuda repeats. “Something to do with the hippocampus, yeah? Let me look that up.”

“I would think you’d know all about it, seeing as this is your specialty.”

“Shut up, SHSL Dick.” Matsuda replies sweetly, pulling out his electronic student ID card. It takes him only a moment to find an applicable article, while Kamukura considers his previous remark.

“What do you mean, SHSL-” he starts, before Matsuda silences him with a glare.

“This syndrome. Interesting. Amnesia, check. Docility, check. Visual agnosia- do you have that?”

Kamukura shakes his head slowly. “Would I be able to tell if I did?”

“Excellent point. Dietary changes?”

“Some. I eat out of boredom, usually, and am rarely hungry otherwise.”

Matsuda reads a bit farther, snorting. “Hyperorality and hypersexuality? No, huh.”

Kamukura blinks. “No, I’ve noted varying levels of both of those symptoms.”

Matsuda wrinkles up his face, trying not to laugh. “You? Sexual? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You say that like it’s an uncontrollable urge. I have more than enough mental capacity to find outlets for libido, Matsuda.”

“Nice, nice. So you fried your hippocampus, and now you want sex. Brilliant.”

Kamukura frowns. “You’re vastly oversimplifying the situation. I would have expected more open-minded thinking from you.”

“Why are you here?” Matsuda sits up, now spread out over only two chairs.

“My reasoning is complex. Primarily, to reassure any doubts you made have had over the success of last week’s procedure. Secondarily, to solicit sexual intercourse with you.”

Matsuda chokes, somewhere between laughing and panicking. “What?”

Kamukura tilts his head to the side. “I didn’t think you would refuse.”

“I- what is wrong with you? People don’t just go into each other’s labs at night and ask to do it! I don’t even know you, Kamukura.” Matsuda scowls. “You should leave now.”

“Why are you acting defensively?” Kamukura makes no move to leave. “You can think of her instead of me if you’d like. That’s your hesitation, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Truthfully, Matsuda has been puzzling over his feelings towards the long-haired boy for some time now. He experiences attraction so infrequently that it’s hard to distinguish from intellectual interest or platonic love. Really, the only thing he has to compare it to is what he feels for his girlfriend, which is more like a romantic friendship to him.

“I’m not gay.” Matsuda feels the need to point out. “You realize that?”

“Well,” Kamukura exhales sharply. “As I’m neither male nor female, your sexuality won’t be affected.”

“Good. I pride myself in my heterosexuality, obviously.” he says sarcastically. “I’ll- help you get off, and that’s it. Nothing complicated or romantic, ew.” Matsuda says after a moment.

“That’s fine. I would have thought you were intellectually attracted to me, but it’s always possible to be incorrect when predicting the actions of humans. Are you okay with me taking the lead with this encounter?” Kamukura fixes Matsuda in place with dark red eyes, startling him.

“Hell no. I top.” Matsuda starts, but Kamukura cocks his head to the side and approaches, face suddenly very close to the other’s.

“It would be easier for you to let go, stop me when it becomes uncomfortable.” Kamukura says, voice low and soft. Strangely enough, his voice is probably what Matsuda finds most attractive, strictly in a sexual sense.

He swallows hard, heart rate speeding up. Darm biology, Matsuda is very uncomfortable with his biological needs and urges, dealing with any of them is difficult. Kamukura, on the other hand, looks coldly expressionless. This kind of scares Matsuda, too- the lack of emotion displayed by the other is disconcerting in this situation.

But perhaps it’s easier this way. Matsuda doesn’t have to worry about Kamukura as much if the other isn’t affected at all.

“Fine.” he says, not particularly happy about the perceived surrender of control. Kamukura’s hands slide against his cheekbones, and their lips touch.

The first time is light, more experimental than anything else. Kamukura gives Matsuda time to protest or move away, but he stays. He’s not sure why he does, but it’s not bad. It’s not out of his control completely or unwelcome. It’s interesting, an exploration of someone else’s mind and body.

And Kamukura is so very interesting, still water hiding secrets deep within. Matsuda initiates the second kiss, this one faster and needier, like they both sense that the boundary is far from where they are now. It’s fluid, with a certain amount of grace that neither of them knew they possessed.

Damn, his hair is everywhere. Matsuda soon gives up trying to push it out of the way, futile task as it is. It surrounds the two of them and Matsuda really hopes it’ll stay out of the way of their mouths. Their hearts pound, and Kamukura breaks away for a moment to place his hand on the chest of the other, listening to the sound of life.

“Do you ever wonder why human bodies enjoy this?” he asks, a wry tone creeping into his voice.

Matsuda is sure the answer is readily apparent to both of them, so he doesn’t bother to answer, letting their bodies puzzle out the answer. Some part of him notices how they each go about the experience. Kamukura is sensory, clingy, as if touching another human is foreign and something he deeply craves. Matsuda is, to his decreasing frustration, passive. Passive and slow, methodical.

“Get your hair out of the way.” Matsuda complains, pushing it back again. Kamukura just blinks, the ghost of a smile crossing his face, and answers by pushing his tongue into the mouth of the other. Matsuda is strangely okay with that.

In a moment, Kamukura is unbuttoning Matsuda’s shirt, letting it drop to the floor unceremoniously. He strips to a tank top, and Matsuda accepts this without question, inwardly surprised that Kamukura has boundaries at all. For someone with seemingly no emotional responses, the gender issue must be hard-wired into the body.

Matsuda realizes that he’s creating tangents to focus on, instead of the fact that Kamukura is touching his skin with his mouth and Matsuda has no idea what to do with his hands.

“Ow! Jesus, Kamukura, stop that. Damn oral fixation of yours is not-”

Kamukura looks up, watching Matsuda though his hair. “I read that biting can be enjoyable in sexual intercourse.”

Matsuda’s breathing is irregular, matching his shaky feeling and fast heartbeat. “Not _yet_ , geez. Biting hurts, you can’t just start with that.”

The other boy’s only reaction to the statement is to gently press his tongue to the red mark left, meeting Matsuda’s eyes the entire time.

Again he’s not sure what to do with his hands, and Kamukura’s saliva cools his skin, pointedly moving downwards. Out of exasperation, he slips his fingers into Kamukura’s hair, finding it surprisingly soft. It’s not silky so much as fluffy and heavy.

Bodies pushing and pulling, a fluid combination of attraction and repulsion, they move to the bed. Kamukura works on removing the remaining offending clothing, while Matsuda moves in a sensory-overloaded state. He blinks, mind separating in a hundred directions, focusing on every little sensation rather than a single action. By the time he’s processed one set of actions, Kamukura’s moved on to something else, graceful and far too fast for his partner’s scattered senses.

This is how Matsuda finds his lips bleeding slightly, body exposed, pushed down to meet the cold sheets of his own bed. He’s overwhelmed and distracted, but comfortable with the confusion. He didn’t realize how out of touch he was with his body until now, how much he’s neglected to live in the isolated world of his intellect.

Kamukura pauses, looking again for permission to continue. He’s panting slightly, greater depth to his normally shallow and emotionless face.

“I don’t have a-” Matsuda starts, words frustratingly shaky.

“I didn’t think you would.” Kamukura leans over, their lips meet in a strangely intimate way, almost loving. It’s all just a mockery of love, neither of them sure they’re really capable of the feeling.

Matsuda really isn’t surprised Kamukura brought condoms, but it’s just odd to think about the school’s important secret going off somewhere to buy the necessary items for safe sex. Maybe he stole them from a student.

“What do you mean, ‘didn’t think I would’?” Matsuda asks, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have such a low opinion of my social life?”

Kamukura places an outstretched hand against Matsuda’s bare chest, pressure light. “She’s not here with you now, she’s someone else.”

Matsuda doesn’t want to think about his girlfriend right now, doesn’t want to remember how she’s broken and what she does, how he’s hopelessly trapped in the emotional web she’s spun to catch him. He’s losing himself in sensation and completely happy to do so.

Then Kamukura’s hair is falling across his blank skin, Matsuda is a bit surprised that this is happening in the traditional sense. He just expected something a bit more- homosexual, but that wouldn’t allow for Kamukura to top, and the boy is clearly satisfied with leading.

Matsuda goes along with it, the scattered nature of his mind forcing him to concentrate on his body, what’s usually neglected. He’s again surprised that Kamukura is as good at this as he is, trying not to think of the many talents the boy might possess that would give him skill in this area. Dancing might explain the extreme grace, some knowledge of anatomy or the human mind. He’s sharply aware that it’s just dopamine in his brain, fooling him into thinking that his body is just as valid as his brain, but he believes it at the moment. The brain be damned; he’s a physical presence, he’s nerve endings and skin and heat emitting from muscles. He’s a tool for Kamukura, and this is strangely okay with him. He feels alive.

The world boils down to a handful of sensations. Teeth on his skin, stars in the lime-tinted light of the room, the warmth of another human spreading through his body, hair tickling his exposed skin.

He can’t think again until everything’s quiet again, and he can wrap his arms around Kamukura’s sleeping form, pushing his hair out of the way. Once his abnormal and incredible mind is sleeping, Kamukura is small, a comforting presence. Matsuda presses his face against Kamukura’s back, breathing slow, heart calmed.

When he wakes again, he’s alone. Carefully Matsuda stretches up, pale hands greeting the dim lights and slivers of sunlight sneaking in through the one window’s shade. His body is warm, it feels connected to his mind, a foreign sensation. His hands trace the light bruises, barely visible marks of teeth.

He’s hungry, too, something he hasn’t felt in months. This is humanity, this is connection between body and brain. He’s alive, and he wants to see Izuru Kamukura again.

**  
  
  
**

**Author's Note:**

> The characters are intended to be of age in this story.


End file.
